


chasing down the silver linings.

by thequeenofokay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ambiguous Relationships, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3155231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/pseuds/thequeenofokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's still a little hazy from blood loss, even after Kara had given him some of her own (he'd told her not to, but she refused to listen).</p><p>Simmons sets her bag down on the table. ‘Right,’ she says. She swallows. ‘Do you have any tea?’</p><p>// five times kara and grant get visitors and one time they visit shield;; <em>or</em> the one in which kara and grant accidentally turn their home into a shield support group.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chasing down the silver linings.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ all i will accept from part two of the second season is kara and grant living in cute penthouse apartments and supporting shield agents and being generally a lil bit cooler than everyone else. that is all.
> 
> \+ idk what the pairing is here tbh. read what you want into it. 
> 
> \+ title from "home ii" by dotan.

**one.**

 

He doesn't want to call. At all. Last time he saw Simmons, she told him that she'd kill him if they ever saw each other again.

But his ribs are an awful purple colour and Kara still has someone else's face.

So he calls.

He doesn't expect her to come, honestly. At least, not without more of a fight.

He answers the door with a gun in one hand, because you can never be too careful.

He's still a little hazy from blood loss, even after Kara had given him some of her own (he'd told her not to, but she refused to listen), and he's leaning against the doorframe, but Simmons is standing on the doorstep, and she hasn't killed him yet, which has to be a good sign.

‘I’m not here for you,’ she says. She gives him a defiant look. He moves aside to let her in, and she passes by him into the living room, but doesn't stop talking. ‘I’m here because she deserves better. Not because I care about you or I think that--’

'Simmons,' he says, cutting her off before she can go any further. ‘I know. It's okay.’

She sets her bag down on the table. ‘Right,’ she says. She swallows. ‘Do you have any tea?’

She cleans and bandages up his side properly first. He pretends he doesn’t notice that she’s shaking.

Kara's face is more of a struggle. She works at it for hours, and has to keep Fitz on the phone most of the time, advising her on the electrical components of the mask that has fixed itself to Kara's face.

Grant hovers behind Kara's shoulder. Eventually, Simmons gives up on trying to make him leave and stop distracting her from her work, instead sending him off for food or supplies or to refill her drink.

He doesn't mind -- he's restless and she refuses to take a break for more than a minute or two at a time. Hours in, he thinks it can't be much more than sheer determination keeping her going.

At two in the morning, Simmons sits back.

'It's the best I could do,' she says. 'I hope it's okay. There will be some scarring, but it's, you know, _your face_.' She gives Kara a tiny, nervous smile.

Kara reaches up and touches her cheek. 'Really?' she asks. 'Is it really my face again?'

She almost skids from the room -- the fastest Grant has seen her move since they’ve been staying together -- and he doesn't doubt that she's staring at the mirror in the hall.

He’s never really seen her smile. Nothing more than a tiny flicker. But when she comes back into the room, she’s full-on _grinning_.

‘Thank you,’ she says. She takes a step forwards and, hesitating slightly, throws her arms around Simmons.

The other woman smiles and pats Kara gently on the back. ‘You’re welcome,’ she says, and Grant can see her relaxing visibly.

They make Simmons agree to wait until morning to leave -- she hasn’t had the chance to _breathe_ , and she won’t be sneaking back to a Shield facility in the dark on their watch.

She curls into a chair, a cup of tea clutched in her hands, and Kara and Grant have settled themselves into the sofa opposite. Kara’s eyes slide shut every now and then, like she might fall asleep, but every time she pulls herself awake again.

Grant’s not sure whether she doesn’t want to be left vulnerable in the presence of someone she doesn’t know, or doesn’t want him to be left on his own.

‘Do you know what happened?’ Jemma asks. ‘After?’

‘After Skye shot me.’ He knows she was trying to skirt round it.

She wrinkles her nose slightly, and beside him Kara stiffens.

‘Yes,’ Jemma says. ‘After that.’

‘No,’ he says. ‘We left as fast as we could.’

Jemma sighs. She curls in on herself a little further. ‘Trip died,’ she says, in a tiny, too even voice. ‘And Skye hasn’t been the same since.’

He’s silent for a minute. He just sighs, leans forward on the sofa, and lets Kara move over to rub the back of his hand comfortingly.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘He shouldn’t have.’

Jemma shakes her head slowly. ‘No,’ she agrees quietly. ‘He shouldn’t have.’

‘And Skye?’ he asks. He doesn’t want to. But he does.

Jemma looks up at him. ‘She’s different. Raina was right. I can’t explain it yet, but the Obelisk… changed her.’

‘Changed her how?’ he presses on.

Jemma shakes her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘Not exactly. She has abilities, and I would speculate that they’re… seismic, but don’t have the information to fully support that view yet and...’ She trails off and slumps down into the chair. ‘I don’t know,’ she says, and he can hear her voice breaking. ‘I’m sorry.’

She falls asleep curled in the sofa, and Kara finds a blanket to tuck round her.

She refuses to stay for breakfast, but they manage to give her something to eat on the way back to the Playground.

(‘When did you become the sensible one?’ she asks, and he just shrugs.

He’s pretty sure he became the sensible one when she stopped being able to sleep through the night and he learned how to almost manage. He doesn’t say that.)

‘You know,’ she says, balancing on the doorstep. ‘You can call, I suppose, or email. If you ever need help.’ She shuffles, a little awkwardly. ‘I know I said… some things but if you ever have anything science related, or medical it’s really --’

‘Thanks Simmons,’ he says. ‘We appreciate it. Really.’

She nods. ‘It was nice to see you,’ she says, and looks a little guilty about it.

‘It was,’ he says.

She steps out into the morning, and turns to wave when she’s halfway down the street.

He smiles.

 

**two.**

 

They get tired of running, of the constant bouncing between safe houses, and finally decide to find somewhere as a base for themselves.

They find a penthouse in the city.

Kara finds it. He, apparently, would have them living in a hole if he could. (Not true, but he’s just going to frown when she brings it up instead of arguing.)

It’s a little run down, and cheaper than it could have been, but it leaves them space to do it up and add in the security they need.

He calls Simmons up on the day they move. She’s visited a couple of times since the first, usually looking dead on her feet. She doesn’t stay long, just for a cup of tea, but he hopes, at least, that it does her some good.

Fitz picks up. ‘ _Ward_?’

‘Sorry,’ Grant says. ‘Is Simmons there?’

There’s a pause. ‘No,’ he says. ‘She’s out.’ Another pause. ‘Would you like me too… pass on a message?’

‘It was just our new address,’ Grant says, carefully. ‘Just to tell her we’ve found somewhere more permanent.’

‘I’ll tell her,’ Fitz says. It goes quiet, but Grant waits. ‘You don’t… need any help moving in, do you?’

Last time Fitz visited him, he nearly asphyxiated Grant. But if he’s learned anything from Simmons, it’s that they’ve all changed.

There’s no harm in a visit.

‘Sure,’ he says.

Fitz turns up with a rucksack of tools and a takeout pizza.

‘It’s got potential,’ he decides, looking round the new apartment. ‘I’ve got the equipment to install a security system for you,’ he says. ‘If you want, I mean.’

‘That would be great,’ Grant says.

‘I designed it myself,’ Fitz says. ‘So it’s the best there is, honestly.’

‘Obviously,’ Kara says. ‘Grant tells me you’re a genius.’

Fitz ducks his head. ‘I mean, yeah. I am?’

‘Grant never lies,’ Kara says. She smiles, and pats Grant slowly on the shoulder (she still gives him time to move away. Just in case). ‘You’re going to be a great help.’

‘Thanks,’ Fitz says. ‘So what were you thinking about painting the place?’ Fitz asks. ‘See, Jemma’s really into, you know, harmonious colour schemes to increase productivity.’ He’s grinning just thinking about it.

‘I don’t think we really care about colour schemes,’ Grant says, but it’s met by a deep scowl from Kara. ‘Or,’ he tries again, ‘maybe we do?’

‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘I’ve bought paint already. I knew you’d just want to paint the whole place white.’

He frowns. (There’s nothing wrong with white.)

Grant and Kara start on painting the living room while Fitz installs the security, and he joins them once he’s done.

Grant ends up with a blue handprint on the back of his shirt, courtesy of Kara, and he’s not sure if Fitz has noticed the one she left on his shoulder.

‘This was,’ Fitz says, ‘fun?’

Kara smiles. She’s got paint on her top and there are streaks through her hair from when she runs her hand through it.

‘It was,’ she says. ‘Thanks.’

‘And if you ever need anything fixed just, y’know, ask,’ Fitz says.

‘You’re welcome to stop by,’ she says. ‘Whenever.’

Fitz almost grins. ‘I mean, your kitchen could maybe do with a few upgrades,’ he says. ‘I could stop by at the weekend?’

Kara shrugs. ‘We’d love to have you. And Sunday night is lasagna, if you want to stay for it.’

‘Can I bring Simmons?’ he asks. ‘It’s just, she love lasagna, and she’s due back from her mission on Saturday night.’ He smiles slightly, to himself, at the thought.

‘Of course,’ Grant says. He should probably be trying to distance himself from Shield but… he’s missed them.

 

**three.**

 

The doorbell rings.

Kara raises an eyebrow at him, and both are already picking up guns. ‘I’ll get it.’

He hears the door open, followed by swearing from Kara.

There’s a pause.

‘Hey, Grant?’ she calls. ‘It’s your ex girlfriend. The one that shot you. Not the one whose face I had.’

 _Skye_.

He nearly drops his gun. ‘Neither of them were my girlfriend,’ he replies, calm as he can.

Kara comes in first, followed by Skye.

She’s limping slightly, her hair is matted with blood, she’s clutching one side in the most nonchalant way possible, and her clothes are shredded.

He resists to the urge to go straight to her. Last time they saw each other, after all, she shot him.

She leans against the wall. ‘It’s a...’ She breaks off to cough and wheeze. ‘It’s a nice place you’ve got here,’ she says. ‘You even have an elevator?’ She waves at the door towards it.

(Small talk? They’re really doing this?)

‘I picked it,’ Kara says. ‘Grant’s got terrible taste.’ She’s standing between them, demeanour casual enough, but he can see something defensive in her stance.

She’s protecting him.

He thinks Skye might realise that. She gives a little nod, wheezes again, and pushes herself up off the wall.

‘Can we help you?’ Kara asks finally. ‘Would you like taken to the hospital?’

Skye shakes her head violently. ‘No,’ she breathes. ‘No hospital. I just need to… hide out?’

Kara’s expression tightens. ‘We should get you to the hospital,’ she says. She looks back at him, and he knows she’s really saying _i don’t want you here, because i know you’re going to hurt grant_.

He shakes his head. ‘It’s fine,’ he says. ‘We can patch her up. She won’t be staying long.’ _i can handle it_.

Kara frowns. _i’m not happy with this. i don’t think you’re ready_. ‘Sit down,’ she says to Skye. ‘But don’t get blood on my apartment. I’ll get the first aid kit.’

‘Where can I sit?’ Skye asks.

He shrugs, but pulls a chair out anyway.

She leans against it, but doesn’t sit down. ‘Are you sure your girlfriend isn’t going to get mad at me?’

He could correct her and tell her Kara isn’t his _girlfriend_. She’s his partner. But there’s something about the way Skye bites it out, like it hurts.

And she did _shoot_ _him_.

So he doesn’t.

‘I'm sure.’

She sits as Kara renters the room with a first aid kit in one hand, and a little pile of her own clothes in the other.

They peel off Skye's ruined clothes, clean and bandage her wounds, and help her into the shower.

'Do you know what happened to her?' Kara asks. They stand in the kitchen, waiting with the kettle boiling for Skye to finish in the bathroom.

He shakes his head. 'She was more reckless than I taught her to be.'

Kara snorts. 'Because you never make reckless decisions in the field.' She raises an eyebrow, hand on hip. 'Last week? You'd have gotten yourself killed if I wasn't there.'

'Not the point,' he says. 'I don't make _stupid_ decisions, and I don't work alone.'

'And she does?'

'From what Simmons says, she volunteers herself for one man missions.'

Kara frowns. 'She's not been in the field long enough.'

He just shrugs. 'Try telling that to Coulson.'

They fall silent as the bathroom door opens and Skye slips out.

He used to be able to hear her crashing around from a mile off, but now her footsteps hardly make a sound as she crosses to them.

'I borrowed some shampoo,' she says. 'I hope that's okay.'

Kara smiles. 'Of course,' she says.

A tiny smirk appears on Skye's face. ‘By the way, do you guys _share_ your shampoo?’

‘Problem with that?’ Grant tries to frown. He’s not convinced he succeeds.

She grins and goes to bat him on the shoulder, but stops herself. ‘It’s sweet,’ she says. ‘Super domestic.’

He decides not to try and fight this one. ‘Fine,’ he concedes. ‘Are you staying for dinner?’

Skye shifts, slightly uncomfortably, at the question, looking hesitant to completely abandon her principles. ‘What are you having?’ she asks.

‘It’s just leftovers,’ Kara says. ‘Sorry.’

She still looks like she wants to say no, wants to run, but finally she shrugs. ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Why not?’

Given their past, how well they had fit together, it’s hard to find anything to talk about while they eat.

Or maybe, given their history, how hard they fell apart, it’s surprising they can find anything safe to talk about at all.

‘This is _really_ good, by the way,’ Skye says. ‘You made it, right?’ she asks Kara.

Kara glances over at Grant. ‘We cook together, usually,’ she says.

‘You remember how you used to --’ Skye starts, grinning at Grant, and then breaks off. She swallows. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she says.

Kara gives him a worried, slightly lost look.

The table shakes.

Skye drops her fork. She pushes her chair back and stands up. ‘I should go,’ she says. ‘Sorry, I… I shouldn’t have bothered you two.’

‘Skye,’ he sighs, and stands up after her. He catches her just as she reaches the door. ‘Wait,’ he says. He picks a key up off the shelf and glances back at Kara. She gives a tiny nod of her head. ‘You can have this, if you want.’

She takes it in her fingers, stares at it. ‘You mean I can come back?’

‘If you need to come back,’ he says, ‘and if you’ve nowhere else, you can always come here.’

She looks up. ‘You’ll be here?’

‘We’re based here,’ he says. ‘We’ll always come back here.’

She slips it into her back pocket. ‘Um,’ she says. ‘Thanks.’ She stands in the door, looking like she wants to say something more. ‘I’ll bring the clothes back,’ she says, and he’s sure that wasn’t it.

She disappears out into the hall, hands tucked in her pockets, and he closes the door behind her.

 

**four.**

 

‘Grant?’ Kara calls. ‘There’s someone at the door, and I think it’s -- I mean. I think you should just come here.’

He enters the room, and finds Natasha standing in the door. Her hands are in the pockets of her hoodie, and she’s nonchalantly chewing gum.

‘Hi Ward,’ she says. ‘Long time.’

‘Kara,’ he says. ‘Why don’t you… leave. Go upstairs. Just until I tell you to come back down.’

She tilts her head in a little _do i have to_ movement, but he shoots back an _i mean it_ look. Her shoulders slump slightly in defeat.

She pokes him on the way past. ‘Is that…?’

He nods.

‘Nice,’ she says. ‘Try not to let her kill you.’

Natasha kicks the door shut with the back of her foot. ‘So,’ she says. She slumps onto the sofa. ‘You betrayed Shield for Hydra.’

He shrugs. ‘Not exactly.’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘Not so black and white?’

‘You know it’s never been,’ he says, and she nods a little in agreement. ‘I was in it for Garrett,’ he says. ‘Not Hydra.’

Natasha wrinkles her nose. ‘That guy was a dick.’

There’s a beat, and they watch each other.

‘Why are you _here_ , Nat?’

‘Can’t it be for the company?’ she asks, pouting at him.

‘No.’ He knows her better than that. ‘You want something.’

‘Fine,’ she says. She pulls a folded bit of paper from her pocket and drops it on the coffee table between them. ‘I thought this would be fun,’ she says.

He picks it up, studies it. ‘You want me to help you steal a highly dangerous alien weapon?’ he clarifies.

‘Pretty much. Your girl can help too.’ She grins at him like she’s given him a Christmas present, not a highly dangerous mission.

‘Kara,’ he corrects her.

She sits up a little bit. ‘That’s Agent 33? I heard she’d switched on us too.’

‘No,’ he says. ‘Just abandoned by Shield and brainwashed.’

‘You sound bitter.’

‘I’m a little bitter,’ he says.

She pauses. She’s giving him a look she knows, calculating him. ‘I know what happened, ‘ she says eventually. ‘I know what you’ve done.’

‘And I know what you’ve done,’ he says. ‘So can we get on with this?’

She smiles. Interrogation over. ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Go fetch Kara.’

Natasha has plans laid out on the table when he comes back with her.

‘It’s not a big job,’ she says. ‘We could have it done by tomorrow afternoon.’

Natasha is a liar by trade. It’s a huge job, which should really have a team of at least twenty agents who would have to have trained for weeks.

Instead it has three of them who looked over the plans, and decided to make it up as they go along.

‘ _Ward_ ,’ Natasha yells through his comm, and he sees a flash of gunfire as she takes out guards on the walkway above them. ‘Watch your six.’

He turns to take out the man behind him, but there’s already a bullet from Kara’s gun through his forehead.

‘Got your back,’ she says. ‘We should be close now.’

They find the weapon stowed in a crate. It’s smaller and more delicate than Grant would have imagine, but picks it out anyway.

‘Ward!’ Natasha shouts. ‘It’s dangerous, you can’t just _pick it up_.’

‘It’s _fine_ ,’ he insists. ‘Have you got the bag?’

She hands over a rucksack (which doesn’t seem a whole lot safer than just holding it, but he won’t argue), and he drops it in.

It clatters, and he really hopes it hasn’t broken.

They go to McDonalds after, with the weapon still in Natasha’s bag, lying at her feet. ‘I’ll get it to Fury,’ she says. ‘It’ll be safe.’ She takes a bite out of her burger. ‘I can count on you two, yeah? If I need backup on a job.’

Kara looks at him. ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘It was fun.’

Natasha grins. She leans across the table to poke him. ‘Told you,’ she says.

 

**five.**

 

He doesn’t recognise the number, but he opens the text anyway.

**_hey :)) it’s bobbi!! jem gave me ur no i hope its ok??_ **

Kara looks up. She’s got breakfast in one hand and is cleaning a gun with the other. ‘Who is it?’ she asks.

‘Bobbi,’ he says.

‘Mockingbird?’ she asks.

He nods. ‘That’s her.’

 ** _yes_** , he replies.

**_gr8!! is it k if i come round this eve?? ill bring food!!! :))_ **

Kara moves round the table to peer over his shoulder. ‘We were going to _try_ and keep our distance from the team,’ she reminds him.

‘Bobbi’s a friend,’ he says. ‘And she was never a part of Coulson’s team when I was, anyway.’

“So I never really betrayed her” is left unsaid.

Kara shrugs. ‘Your call,’ she says.

 ** _sure_** , he texts back.

Bobbi turns up just as it’s getting dark with a paper bag overflowing with food in her arms.

‘Kara, right?’ she asks.

Kara nods, and Bobbi shuffles the bag in her arms enough so that she can hold out a hand for Kara to shake.

She sets the bag down on the table, pulls out popcorn, and starts going through his cupboards for a bowl.

He finally takes pity on her and opens the right one. ‘How’s Shield?’ he asks.

She wrinkles her nose. ‘Mission went wrong today. Haven’t seen Skye in days. Coulson will hardly speak to us outside of mission briefings.’ She straightens, grimaces. ‘I think you had the right idea, honestly.’

‘Getting out?’ It’s the one of his _many_ bad ideas that’s actually worked out.

She nods, taps her fingers absently. He knows she likes to keep her hands busy -- it’s only so long before she finds something to twirl in them. ‘It’s difficult,’ she says. ‘But I have to stay. Shield are… they’re doing the right thing,’ she says, like she’s trying to convince herself more than anything.

He doesn’t disagree with her.

She shakes her head, empties the last pack of popcorn, and smiles again. ‘Hunter’s just parking the car,’ she says. ‘He’ll be up in a second?’

Across the room, Kara frowns at Grant.

‘Hunter’s here too?’ he asks.

‘So are Jemma and Fitz,’ Bobbi says. She grins sheepishly. ‘Sorry. We all needed a break.’

He sighs. He could tell them all to just _leave_ , leave them to their peace. But he doesn’t. ‘I guess you should find somewhere to sit,’ he says.

She beams. ‘Hunter has movies,’ she says.

They pile in, all a little worse for wear -- Hunter has a bandage round one arm, Simmons is too pale, and there’s a nasty cut on Fitz’s cheek.

Kara looks at Grant. ‘Let’s get the blankets,’ she says. ‘I think they need blankets.’

They pull them from the cupboard, and dump them in the living room.

‘Everyone grab one,’ she says. ‘Make yourselves comfortable.’

Hunter takes the biggest, pushes off his shoes, and falls onto the sofa.

Bobbi frowns at him.

‘Did you want this one?’ he asks. ‘You can join me, if you want.’ He grins.

She pouts, but picks up a bowl of popcorn and joins him. ‘Only for the blanket,’ she says.

‘So is this like a Shield sleepover?’ Hunter asks. Like it’s the wittiest thing anyone’s ever said.

‘No,’ Grant says, at the same time as Kara says, ‘Pretty much.’

He glares at her. They didn’t have to _admit_ it.

The door opens just as Jemma starts to tear up at Moulin Rouge, as Skye lets herself in. Kara raises herself off Grant’s lap far enough to wordlessly pass over a beer and the first aid kit.

No one says anything as Skye settles on the sofa between Fitz and Kara and begins to patch up the nasty gash on her arm and the grazes on her knees and the slice on her cheek.

‘I get to pick the next movie,’ she whispers.

Simmons shushes her. Aggressively.

They all stay until after just breakfast.

It isn’t until after they’re all gone that Grant realises how quiet his house is.

 

**+one.**

 

When Bobbi texts, he expects it means he should probably grab the beers from the cupboard and prepare for a marathon of whatever she’s watching this week.

He’s wrong. The text reads: _**soo coulson wants 2 c u ://**_

Kara is already peering over his arm, moving his arm so she can read it.

‘Oh,’ she says.

‘We could move on,’ he suggests. ‘We could clean this place out, be gone within the day, and they’d never find us.’

Kara frowns. She leans against the chair. ‘It feels wrong to leave them,' she says. 'Like they need this place.’

They buy Simmons’ favourite brand of tea, even though it's most expensive. Fitz fixes their shower  when it isn’t broken (at this point, Kara is breaking it on purpose just to give him something to do) and Netflix recommends them all of Bobbi's favourite shows. Hunter keeps a pair of fuzzy slippers by the front door, and May turns up to do Tai Chi on the balcony.

(She’s just _there_ one morning.

‘Maybe we should improve our security,’ Kara says.)

And coming in to find Skye sleeping on the couch, covered in scrapes or wounds, isn’t unusual. Sometimes she’s already eating breakfast when they wake up, and she’ll have the kettle boiled and toast on for them.

Grant nods. ‘It’s just one time anyway,’ he says.

Bobbi hadn’t bothered to send coordinates, which doesn’t surprise him. It’s not really a coincidence that they only live just over half an hour from the Playground.

Hunter is waiting for them out the front of the base. ‘I’ve been told to request that you hand over your weapons,’ he says, resignation obvious in his voice. They all know how this is going to go.

Kara adjusts her holster. She looks up at Grant. ‘What do you think?’ she asks. He shrugs, makes a face, and she nods. ‘We’re going with no.’

‘That wasn’t really an option,’ Hunter says. He looks like he might fight it further, and finally decides against it. ‘Nah,’ he says. ‘I tried. Come on in.’

He leads them into Coulson’s office. Most of the team is already waiting to be briefed.

The door closes behind them, and Coulson brings up blueprints onto his hologram projector.

‘Now that we’re all here,’ he says, ‘this is one of Hydra’s biggest facilities. We’re going to take it down.’

(Grant had forgotten how much he loved Coulson’s overly optimistic briefings.)

‘And since we’re infiltrating Hydra, I thought it would be a good idea to bring in two agents with insider knowledge.’ He gives Grant and Kara a pointed look.

Kara raises a hand. ‘Agents?’ she asks.

Coulson frowns. ‘What’s your point, Agent 33?’

‘We’re not agents,’ she says. ‘We’re not a part of Shield.’

‘Call us consultants,’ Grant says. ‘Just like Skye used to be.’

‘With consultant wages,’ Kara finishes.

Coulson rubs his forehead. ‘Fine,’ he says. ‘Two consultants.’

In the corner, Hunter lets out a whistle.

‘Please,’ Coulson says, as they head for the Quinjet. ‘Just follow orders, and get along with my team.’

Kara loops her arm through Grant’s. ‘Please,’ she says, smirking. ‘We _look after_ your team on a regular basis. I think we’ll manage.’

 

 


End file.
